Alien Angel
by Naitachal666
Summary: [SasuNaru] It started that night, the firey comets flashing through the velvet sky in search of a less spiritual home. Maybe their search is in vain and there will never be a place for them to call home. Even in our difference, we are alike.
1. And the sky fell upon me in kindness

Alien Angel

Inspiration for this came from a friend ( Kichiko-19), a David Bowie movie named Labyrinth, a song by 3 called 'Alien Angel', and my imagination from there on. Lyrics are part of 'Alien Angel' by 3, on their album Wake Pig. It is also found on the Metal Blade Summer 2006 sampler. The poem is an original by me, the only change from its original context being the substitution of 'thundering' for 'night-dark' to match the story.

I do not own Naruto, or any of its original characters, They are property of Masashi Kishimoto.

_Are you an angel whose ship ran aground?_

_Can't get a grip on this planet you've found?_

_Never to look down,_

_I've traded my halo for feet on the ground._

It started that night, the fires of comets flashing through the velvet sky in search of a less spiritual home. But maybe their search is in vain, maybe there will never be a place for them; never a place they can call home. It started then, as I thought how much alike we are; the distant spears of flame shooting through the sky, and me sitting here and watching them, knowing how similar my own story is to theirs. Even in our difference, we are alike. They search to find a place no longer in the heavens, no longer amongst their kindred. I search to find a place where I can be accepted, a place where there are people not unlike me.

"Oh I wish, I wish upon the shooting stars, flying meteors so far above, _hear me from wherever you are!_" My voice rang out richly yet emptily mocking into the still night, causing the birds in the tree above me to shift and softly _whir_ at me from their nights roosting. "I wish that both of us could find a home! That you could find a home! That I could find a home! That we could both become one with our place in this universe! _That is my wish! Hear me now and grant this wish that I have cast to you!"_

I moved from my position of arms spread and face upturned to the starry moonless sky, my legs moving as I took a step backwards and turned to walk from beneath the boughs of one tree of the many dotted throughout the flowing hills. I made my way slowly down the side of the steep hill, my full attention on my feet and the ground before me so that I wouldn't find myself laying face down and bruised at its base so far below. A hot wind began to blow, its erratic gusts reaching my cool skin through the holes in my disheveled layers of clothing. I ignored it, intent on reaching my destination at the bottom of the hill. The heat of it began to grow, and the wind picked up into an airy pitch. I was just stepping down onto the level ground when I finally lifted my gaze from my feet and deigned to look back up and behind me, wondering the source of such a blistering wind.

And that was when I saw it, when the wind that carried it lifted me off of my feet and tossed me into the air, scorching my lungs with its searing heat. It rushed towards me, a fiery mass of alien rock and I had no other thought left in my head but to stare at it in all of its ethereal beauty, even as my body was lifted further from the ground by the wind of its coming. Time slowed to the crawling drip of aged molasses, and a flash of a poem I had once read imposed itself in my otherwise empty mind.

_The bleak winds blew across the southern eclipse,_

_Rendering a chill breeze to graze along the gray and boundless plain;_

_The languid grasses reflecting the colorless state of night-dark clouds above._

_Every thought is held in a single breath,_

_The smooth flow of time held stolid in a swampy mire._

_The mind's eye thus impaired by this tranquil scene, _

_As much a blizzard as any other._

_Death,_

_In this moment,_

_Can be heard as the only sound;_

_Ringing obtrusively in the open air._

_This extemporaneous moment, _

_Invincible to any trick of time,_

_Is adept at its game._

_That which is not beheld in its amber moment is diminutive,_

_A despicable crime._

How true it seemed at this moment. How well the poet had written it, to match this chilling breeze even as it broiled my skin and made my eyes water. How it matched the quiet that was the possibility of my own death occurring with no one else to know.

Time seemed to suddenly reverse its flow from barely creeping to charging ahead into the future and I was blinded, my vision flashing white as I could feel the impact of the heavenly body into the place where I had called it from only minutes before.

_It feels as if it has been forever. But it has been only minutes. No more than twenty scalding breaths since my body became disconnected from the earth…_

Impact. Not the impact of the meteor, for it was already beginning to seizure in aftershock, but my impact as the wind that had carried it to me blew me away. My body shook with its force, even as the land about me did shudder, the trees whipping every which way and the chunks of unsettled earth flying about me in a quake of dust.

I landed hard, choking on the hot, soil filled air as my torso connected with the earth. I held my breath as best I could without coughing too much and tried to lay there as still as possible. It was minutes before the majority of the dust had settled, the wind having almost completely died down, leaching all the heat from the earth. The earth still trembling slightly, but not enough to really notice, I put my arms beneath me and lifted my self onto my knees. Already, I could feel the ache of my bruised ribs. By morning, they would be a mass of black and blue from my shoulder-blade to my hips.

Even so, my curiosity was enough to make me shakily get to my feet through the throbbing promise of pain and take the gravity-belabored steps back up the hill. I stopped two-thirds of the way to up and stared. There was no other third. Stretched before me where I had stood under the tree less than an hour ago was nothing. Nothing being a steaming crater, of course. No tree, and thank god, no me.

I peered from my perch at the lip of the hollow and tried my hardest to stare with squinting eyes past the warm steam that lifted into the still air before me. Looking, I saw a path where I approach and see more clearly. I stepped gingerly past the mouth of the crater and cautiously made my way down towards its center, a hand grasping my other arm for mental security. It's not everyday that a poor, homeless kid like me almost gets struck by a meteor.

The steam seemed to clear from my presence, and I came abreast of the hunk of half-buried steaming rock in the center of the hole. It was hot, but I could also feel an immense chill radiating from somewhere deep within it. Carefully as I could, I walked up to it and sat back on my heels, my back spasming as a reminder of my earlier flight. It was cracked, and this was where the incalculable chill came from. Staring at it, I did not find myself afraid. I wasn't angered, I wasn't apprehensive. I felt no emotion other than a mild sense of curiosity and strong urge to wait and watch it.

Even as I did so, it began to splinter and I wrapped my arms about myself to ward off the sudden coolness in the air. On the outside, it was mottled brown and red and yellow. But as it slowly began to crack and pieces fragmented from the whole, I saw that the inside way a myriad swirl of captivating colors. With a resounding crack and a rush of cooler air, a large piece cleft from the main and slid down to fall with its glistening interior revealed to the sparkling night sky.

For a moment I had fancied some small alien to reside inside, but I knew that wouldn't be true. But I was still not prepared to see the shimmering stone that rested within the rest, apart from it all as being smoothly rounded and pendulous in shape, as if a sphere had been stretched until it was three times as long as it was wide and vaguely pointed at the ends.

Without knowing, I had stood and stretched out a hand to touch it. With my hand barely a fingers width away, I hesitated. The iridescent stone glimmered at me invitingly, as if reminding me of a promise it had made. Reaching forward, I laid my fingers upon it and felt how much warmer than the rest of the space rock it was. Wrapping my fingers around it, I gingerly lifted it from its meteorite cradle and held it up before me. It was a thousand different shimmering colors, shimmering as if faceted, yet not. It seemed to glow, although my eyes could not tell if it was the wan starlight reflecting within it, or if the pale radiance emanated from within it.

It fit my hand perfectly, as if made to nestle in the diagonal length of my palm. It felt right there, somehow. Holding it tightly in my fitted hand, I rose fully and made my way up and out of the crater. Casting a last look at the crevasse behind me, I paced my way down what was left of the hill and walked towards my forest home without another glance, a small warmth in my palm assuring me, as if telling me _'Everything is as it should be, Naruto.'_

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I thank you for reading my story, this will be continued. Please revieaw and tell me what you think.


	2. A bath and a noise in the brush

Alien Angel

Inspiration for this came from a friend ( Kichiko-19), a David Bowie movie named Labyrinth, a song by 3 called 'Alien Angel', and my imagination from there on. Lyrics are part of 'Alien Angel' by 3, on their album Wake Pig. It is also found on the Metal Blade Summer 2006 sampler.

I do not own Naruto, or any of its original characters, They are property of Masashi Kishimoto.

Chapter 2

A bath and a noise in the brush

_Born in motion,_

_Though it is your only course._

_Plunge the gaping edge,_

_Falling down to flesh and bone._

_You could have been caught up in_

_All those empty odds._

_Life, But not to wake,_

_Promises that I see you through._

_"Another homicide has been reported here in Konoha, this time a middling-high class family. The mother, father and aunt were brutally murdered and eviscerated, while the two children huddled in a dusty broom closet. The style is very similar to several other murders in the past year, leading crime scene officials to believe that they are dealing with the same group of extremely well-disguised individuals. The only difference in this case being that the children were spared, where in the other homicides, the children were murdered as well. This is all the information we are allowed to release at this moment, but we will have more at our 10 o' clock airing later tonight. And now for our hourly news re - "_

_This just in, a meteorite from last nights meteor shower has struck near home. Obliterating a country hill top, the chunk of space rock is about as big as a coffee table. It was discovered this afternoon by a local who had decided to take an afternoon stroll in the woods east of Konoha…"_

A tall, blond haired man paced boredly in the living room of his rich, two storied house, a fuchsia towel in his slender hands as he dried his flaxen mane. He had only listened vaguely to the news report, more absorbed in trying to understand what his partner thought of it. The other man sat on the couch Deidara was pacing behind, a can of some carbonated beverage in his pale hand. His sleek, black hair was tied at the base of his neck and pulled over one shoulder so he wouldn't be sitting on it. Itachi had gazed at the TV with a blank face, just as everything he ever did was met with that impassive stare. There was no sign that he had even heard the recorded words that blared from its two small speakers. Deidara could only stand his partners silence so long before blurting out the first words that came to his mind.

"Hey Itachi, yeah. Why'd you tell us not to do the kids too, yeah?" Deidara was only now brushing his hair out with his hands, damp locks of it going everywhere but where he wanted them to. His fingers were still trying to force some semblance of domestication to them when Itachi deigned to answer a full minute later.

"I have my reasons." Was the Uchiha's only reply, leaving Deidara exasperated. Giving up on his teammate, Deidara headed towards the bathroom to grab a brush when the doorbell rang. Sighing deeply, he went to answer it, knowing that Itachi wouldn't. He reached the door and peered through the peep hole, just to make sure, even though he knew who was on the other side. Unbolting the door, he opened it wide and stepped aside so that his other teammates could file inside.

First was the broad-shouldered Kisame of filed teeth and rough blue skin, followed by the redhead Sasori and the oddly plant-like Zetsu. Hidan and Kakuzu followed shortly thereafter. As the last man stepped through the door, Deidara swung it shut on their heels and re-bolted it, this time engaging the secondary deadbolt as well as the chain that only allowed the door to open a hands breadth.

"Hey, Sasori-danna! Did you guys get our next location mapped out, yeah?"

I sat in the dank darkness beneath a concrete tier, my worn clothing sodden and wetly plastered to my shivering form. My teeth chattered incessantly, the ones in the front clicking together as I shifted my head to rest it on my knees. I could feel the rip in the no-longer orange fabric there with the skin of my jaw and remembered, vaguely, having torn it while scaling a chain link fence while being pursued by someone's growling dog. Just one rip among hundreds. Just one more hole to let the chill autumn breeze in to swirl around my shivering body.

As I sat there in the scathing wind that was only barely blocked by the towering concrete, I thought back to last night and the strange stone that resided in my frayed pocket. I reached a hand into its depths and pulled out the thing that seemed to glimmer even here in this near-complete darkness. It was still warm to the touch, as it had been when I first laid my hand upon it. Even when it had rained just before down and I had been caught in the downpour, skidding as I ran through the mud and open forest in a dash for some sort of substantial cover, it had been warm as I held it within my pocket to ensure I would not lose it.

I stared into its crystalline depths and watched entranced with wide blue eyes as the colors seemed to swirl and loop and its warmth seemed to spread throughout my frozen bones. I was barely aware of my eyes drifting shut and my body falling to land curled up on my uninjured side before I was asleep.

I awoke hours later with the stone still gripped in my tight fist, yet I was dry and the wind had died down, leaving me relatively warm on the cool stone. I reached my free hand up and scratched a little at my knotted blond locks, the grime in them easily palpable to my touch. I was in order of a bath, now that there was enough sun visible shining beneath the stone and metal rows of seats above me to show that the storm clouds had cleared. I rose to my feet and walked towards the turn in this cement corridor that led to the great entrance that led back to the world of people and plants that I knew was outside. My eyes squinted as I neared the growing swath of sunlight at the end of the concrete tunnel, before I emerged into a world of light and sound. The ground squished beneath my taped shoes and birds flew in liquid song above as I surveyed the world that had turned green since the gray dawn hours when I had first entered the area beneath the abandoned stadium bleachers.

In a way, it was home there beneath those old and soon to crumble concrete bleachers. I had lived in other places, but never for as long as I had here. Maybe it had remained uninhabited because of the draft that swept through it during the winter months, or the crickets and snakes that took up residence during the summer. Unlike most people, I was glad to have them there with me. As long as I did not bother them, they did not bother me. And so what if I sometimes woke in the middle of the night to find a harmless bull snake coiled against the warmth of my stomach? At least there was something, animal or otherwise, that did not push me away.

I saw such a snake gliding through the damp grass and smiled at it as I headed down the weed grown path towards the city that had abandoned me and my towering concrete home. There would be fresh rainwater in the drainage canals, and I was in need of a bath and a wash for my unrecognizably colored clothes. My hand slipped into my pocket to deposit my treasure there as I walked towards the paved water channels.

I reached them without seeing another intelligent form of life and stripped myself of my clothes, lying them out on the bank and pulling out what meager pocket-goods I had. I laid these in a protected cubby off to the side where they wouldn't be lost and stepped into the waist high slowly moving water. I pulled my shirt with me and began scrubbing at the grime embedded between its threads. After I had done as much as I could with that article, I laid it out on some wild bushes to dry in the sun and began to work on the next piece of clothing.

After I had finished those tasks, I began to wash myself, pulling up handfuls of smooth sand from the bottom to scrub my tanned skin with. Paddling back to my safe-keep cubby, I reached out and grabbed the small bar of plastic wrapped soap that I had found last week while digging through some junk someone had left in an alley beside their house. Why anyone would throw out perfectly good soap was a mystery to me, but I was better off for it, nonetheless. Maybe they didn't like the scent. It was an orangey-citrus type scent, but I didn't mind. At least I _had_ soap.

I used it all over me, and I could probably say I was the cleanest I had been in years, what with having actual soap to clean myself with. The nice orangey smell was an added bonus. So was the way it loosened up the grime in my ever-soiled locks, allowing me to use a fork I had in my safe-pile to actually comb my hair with. I washed my hair again and marveled at the way it lightly and silkily flowed through my fingers, where before it had caught on my fingers in greasy snarls.

I raised my arm and noticed how much less muddy-looking my skin was now. Being careful to preserve my clean state as much as I could, I took my soap and climbed out, fishing the plastic wrapper from the ground and wrapping it as best I could over the slick soap bar. I laid it with the rest of my possessions and sat back on my heels at the waters edge to rinse the slippery substance off of my hands.

Just about as my hands were going to touch the reflective surface of the water, I stopped. There, staring back up at me from beneath the surface was a gangly, bronze-skinned, hollow cheeked boy. His golden hair reached down in damp strands past his shoulders and his blue eyes stared knowingly back at me. The matching scars on each cheek now followed the sunken lines of my face. So much different from the time, years ago, when they had been put there across the round cheeks I had once had. They had put those marks there to show me who I was, what I was. My thin hand rose to touch my face, and the doppelgangers followed.

They told me they did it because I was a monster, because something lived inside me. They said they knew because of the swirling and looping tattoo that occasionally showed up across the expanse of my stomach, now inverted from scarce meals. That's how they said they knew, and then they hurt me and left me there in an alley to die a monster's death. But I didn't die. I survived.

I had lived until now, hated as I was, an outcast of the only village I had ever known. My hand moved from my cheek and back down to touch the cheek of the other who stared back up at me. Their image wavered as my fingertips brushed the water, and I plunged my hands in, no longer wishing to see what a lanky creature I had become. I rinsed my hands and stood, stepping away from the water and grabbing my still somewhat damp clothes from the bush. I pulled them on, the ragged boxers and holey cargoes. Then the two shirts that I wore in cooler weather, the under one navy, and the top one and almost undistinguishable orange that as more brown than anything. Some of the holes were covered by the other, and some of them overlapped to let the air in, but at least it was something to wear.

I gathered my possessions and put them in my pockets, ready to leave when I heard a rustle in the brush. My head snapped up and I crouched my body low, ready to sprint if need be. I slowly moved myself behind a concrete embankment and peered around the side to watch as someone emerged from the bushes. The boy was around my age, 16, and pale to the point of being almost ivory. His midnight black hair stuck up at all angles in a carefully disheveled manner and his sable eyes were rimmed with the red of unshed tears. He moved and sat there at the edge of the water, his thin arms wrapped about his skinny knees as he stared blankly tearing at the water in front of him. He looked so sad there, so much like I always felt that I wanted to reveal myself then. But I restrained myself to watch.

He sat there for a few minutes without moving before he sat back and pulled up his shirt, revealing all the scars there. They looked like healed burns. He took it off and splashed his face with the cool water. It didn't do much, but it took away a little of the redness around his eyes. It was then that I heard another slight crackle in the brush and looked to see a tall, silver haired man who was not at all old step out into the open. He wore a mask that covered the bottom half of his face, and a crooked headband that concealed his left eye. He looked extremely bored, but if you looked hard enough, you could see the worry that was in that lone eye.

"Sasuke - " he said, gently, as he paced towards the distressed teen on the bank. He stopped a few feet away and just stood there silently. After a moment, the boy labeled Sasuke stood and pulled his shirt on, preparing to leave. That was when I knew I had moved too quickly to cover myself. The man's head snapped to stare at my location behind the embankment and he glanced towards Sasuke.

"Come out." That was all he said, but he said it simply. There was no anger in it, just resignation. Thinking for a moment, I considered my options. He would see me anyway if I decided to bolt.

I stood and moved cautiously to the side of the embankment, too wary too put myself in front of it where I could be cornered. The man looked me up and down as I stood there, slightly crouched for quick movement. Sasuke just stood there and regarded me blankly, all traces of emotion having left his face.

"Who are you? Why are you here?" the man asked me. It wasn't as revealing as it sounds, though. I gazed at him for a good minute before I replied.

"Nobody. I don't even exist." I turned to walk away and felt a tight grip on my arm after I had only gone a dozen steps. I turned my head slowly, and quirked a brow as I noticed that it was the raven-haired teen who had grabbed my arm. He looked angry.

"Don't fuck with me!" he snapped, his eyes flaring. "He asked you a question, and that's how you answer? Nobody? _Who are you?" _The last came out as almost a snarl, but I could tell that my unfazed manner at his actions that he wasn't as sure as he had been. I looked him in the eyes, one and one and said the next part slowly, venom dripping from my voice.

"You'd be better off not knowing. And anyways, I doubt the villagers would be happy with you associating with me. I'm their rotten little secret. To them, I don't even exist. They hope that will make it true." With that, I made to walk away again, but he grabbed my arm even tighter and pulled me back.

"Well then I'll make sure you exist. Because I don't believe in nobodies." He grabbed me harder and began dragging me behind him towards the city. Behind me, I could hear the man sigh deeply.

"Sasuke, this isn't the -" he began, only to be cut off.

"Shut up! I'm doing this whether you like it or not!" Snapped the unruly teen. Sighing again, the man addressed me.

"Well, I'm Kakashi. I may be his legal guardian, but when he gets like this, nobody can tell him what to do." He seemed very resigned to the fact. I just stepped up my pace a little so I wasn't being dragged as roughly.

"Hey, where are we going?' I asked.


	3. If I weren't as broken as you Part 1

Alien Angel

I do not own Naruto, or any of its original characters, They are property of Masashi Kishimoto. Lyrics are part of 'Alien Angel' by 3, on their album Wake Pig. It is also found on the Metal Blade Summer 2006 sampler. I'm probably not going to post on this for the next week or so. School is giving me hell, and my uncle is terminally ill. I might post, I might not.

_Are you an angel whose ship ran aground?_

_Can't get a grip on this planet you've found?_

_Never to look down,_

_I've traded my halo for feet on the ground._

Chapter 3

If I weren't as broken as you - Part 1

My question remained unanswered, what with the boy so intent on dragging me deeper and deeper into town. We had already passed into the area that had buildings, and as we progressed past the empty warehouses and leaning apartment complexes, the structures grew in both size and value. In pained awe, I leaned back, forgetting for a moment the firm grip on my wrist. Awe over such a district as this, with its multistoried buildings and its perfectly groomed lawns that stretched out in all directions. But alas, I had been spared all morning from having my injured side pressured upon. Now I felt it throbbing as I was hauled along, a result of my lagging pace as I stared at my surroundings. I held my face impassive against the wonder inside as I let myself be towed into an even richer area of town, remembering to keep up my pace. It was best not to resist lest something worse happen. I could tell just by looking into the black-haired boy's eyes that he wouldn't relent, and that I was going where he wanted me to whether I liked it or not.

I had learned years ago that resistance is only more cause for pain. If you bowed your head and took it, whoever it was that tormented you would soon go away for lack of sport. Of course, that method didn't always work. I had enough scars to prove it.

I felt the grip on my wrist grow tighter for a moment before stifling a gasp of pain when I was jerked in a different direction. I had gotten lost in my thoughts again. Now I was being pulled towards a set of tall, cast iron gates and only had time to gape at what I saw.

The gleaming metal reflected the suns rays back towards the heavens and cast a barred shadow across the graveled path that led through. Beyond them rested an imposing structure that hulked over its foundation with a certain regal air. It encompassed an area greater than any other building within sight, its terraces lined with towering pillars supporting railed balconies several stories above. Cultured gardens wound their way around it in magnificent growths of foliage and carefully planned beds of vivid flowers, between them laced walkways blended in under delicate arches of trellised flowering vines. Casual loops of blooming plants were intertwined over each other as they climbed the gray stone in search of the sun above.

A slight tug on my wrist brought me back to my senses and I realized that I stood there, gaping, my jaw slack and my eyes wide as I stared at the mansion that loomed before me. I shut my mouth with the click of teeth and turned my head to look at my captor. His black eyes were glittering with something almost menacing and a corner of his mouth was pulled up in a superior smirk as he seemed to gloat.

"So, you little street rat. Thinking you're going to like your new home?" came the condescending voice. My eyes widened again and I tried to pull back, not liking at all where this one-sided conversation was going. His nails bit into the flesh of my wrist as he jerked me closer, his bangs swaying as he dipped his head towards me dangerously.

"Think again, bitch. I'm going to make you miserable. I know exactly who you are. You're my fucking slave. You're going to live through hell in this house, just like I had to. After all, somebody's got to take my place." I blinked at him, wondering where he got the notion to abduct me and make me his slave. I didn't have much time to figure it out, for he dragged me over to the gates and fished a small remote from one pocket. He pressed the black button at its center and it clicked smartly, the gates swinging inwards silently at its command.

I really had no other choice but to follow him, really. I knew what could happen if I didn't heed him. I was lucky, being one of the few street urchins to survive a maiming or two, but that didn't mean I'd make it through another one. Just looking into the empty eyes, I understood that I was at risk for far more than a simple beating if I protested.

We made our way up the path, the silver haired man now lagging far behind. As we neared the mansion, I began to notice a few things that were off. It seemed empty, almost. Looking closely, I could see that the garden was not as perfect as I had first thought. Flowers grew outside of the margins of beds, bushes were large and untrimmed, the grass was longish and there were a few arrant weeds poking defiantly through the tall stems.

At an even closer inspection, I now noticed that the paint on the shutters was flaked and the wood itself was beginning to warp. The stones that made the mansion were gray and chipped in places, shingles were broken, and even missing in places. How had such an elegant home fared so poorly in such a rich neighborhood? Yet even with such signs of mismanagement, it remained the most beautiful structure I had yet to see.

But standing before the great wooden doors, I began to feel a chill along my skin, a sudden curdling of my stomach. I felt small and insignificant as I had never before. Even underneath the soaring tiers of the abandoned stadium, never had I felt so small compared to something. The goose bumps blossomed across my body as it sat there like some beast, ready to open its maw and suck me in forever, never to find my way out again. I was going to disappear inside and the only ones who would ever know were this arrogant rich boy and his lazy guardian. All of a sudden, it was no longer magnificent. It was no longer a beautiful thing, but a hulking gray structure intending to drink my body like wine, my soul an appetizer. The dark stone seemed to loom closer, invading my vision and swirling into an undefined blurry mass circling about the foreboding entrance. My heart grew leaden within my chest, my breath rapid and panicked.

I tried to jerk away from the ebon haired boy's grip, my eyes wide and trying to get away from the image burned into my retinas. Useless as it was, I yanked and pulled to try to rid myself of his iron grip. He seemed slightly taken aback by my sudden panic, having to grab my other arm and hold me close to his body to keep me from struggling free. Without hesitating, he threw open a door and dragged me inside, the light of the doorway narrowing down to a small gap as they shut with the sound of a heavy tome closing.

Thanks for reading this and all. I really appreciate it. Maybe I can get some reveiws, ne?


	4. If I weren't as broken as you Part 2

I know I've been rather short on chapters lately. This is due to a rather large case of writers block. I've gotten rviews on my stories from several of my readers propmting me to write, and I have been unable to. Tonight, I think I have opened a gap in the thing that is shutting me out. This is all I was able to get out for the second part of chapter 3. Enjoy. I'm pretty sure that you will like it.

Alien Angel

Chapter 3-2

If I weren't as broken as you - Part 2

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Naruto. Naruto and all its characters are the property of Masashi Kishimoto. ( identifies a clip of poetry from Gidget Gein's _Miscreant.)_

"_There is a point when all things come together in a point of balance; whether it be for only a moment, after which everything snaps and slides off into the abyss, or whether it be for an indeterminate length of time until something happens to alter that state of balance." Sherry Moran_

A strange and oddly stiff fabric crinkled under me as I shifted. Blinking drowsily, I opened my eyes and stared at the material my face was pressed into. It was blue, clean, and it smelt fresh. Unable to think of anything I had recently come across that fitted those descriptions, I sat up to investigate. I instantly regretted my decision and slowly lowered myself back down. Using a hand, I gingerly probed at the bruising on my side. It was at that stage where the bruising seems to hurt more from being stretched than from actual pressure, as well as being a spectacular medley of colors.

Rolling onto my other side, I took in my surroundings. I was on a raised bed, complete with clean linens and pillows. Above me was a low ceiling and to either side were several feet of cluttered space before running abut the magnolia walls adorned with simple tapestries. I raised one blond eyebrow and looked the other way. A single mahogany door stood slightly ajar at the far end of the room from the foot of the bed. Carefully, as I had not earlier, I sat up and pulled one of those gloriously soft pillows behind me to lean up against.

I certainly didn't remember anything happening for me to be here. But then again…The door creaked, and I quickly glanced up from my knees. Standing in the open doorway was a black haired teen of middling-height. I stared dumbfounded for a moment before a thought struck me.

"Do I know you?" I asked. The boy's eyes seemed to almost bug out of his head as he stared at me. He blinked and stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him and leaning up against it.

"You can't be that stupid, can you?" He questioned me as if exasperated. As we regarded each other in silence, he sighed and tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling. "You honestly don't remember?"

Thinking hard, I vaguely remembered something about taking a bath in the drainage channels and being dragged away by a blurry, black-haired form. Making a baffled expression, I shrugged. "You didn't kidnap me by the water earlier, did you?"

"That was two days ago, idiot." The boy replied, unruffled.

"Well excuse me for forgetting two days of my life! I'm blaming you! It's your fault, you conceited bastard!" I growled, enraged that he had called me an idiot. I wasn't stupid, I just couldn't remember! Pouting, I crossed my arms and glared at him.

"Oh, a miracle. Dead last has conquered the pronunciation and context of the word conceited." The voice dripped with sarcasm as the boys black eyes turned to me mockingly. "When did you figure that one out?" That arrogant smirk was drenched in smugness, holier-than-thou to the fullest degree. "I am, after all, the richest person in this whole, cursed village. Why shouldn't I be conceited around you?" His bangs slid into his eyes as he lowered his head to simper at me. "After all, aren't you the poorest?"

_That_ made me furious. This boy, no older than me, felt as if he had the right to insult me so horribly _mockingly_. I mean, I've been mocked before, and insulted. I've had my face rubbed in the dirt and been beaten until I could barely stand, but none of it, _none _of it had ever made me angry like this. The nerve of him. It was almost like he was _asking_ for a fist in that perfect, rich boy ivory face of his.

Clenching my fists to my sides, I held my rage in check and leveled him a piercing glare.

"Poisoned with sugar and spice…ain't it nice to be wanted?" I growled at that smug grin of his. "If you'll excuse me, I am leaving now." I stood carefully and headed past him and out the door. He only stood and watched me vacantly as I walked by him.

"You can't leave. I won't let you." He was standing right behind me. I hadn't even heard him move. "Do you realize who I am? I can have anything I want." He continued on in his dead, monotonous voice.

I had stopped when I heard him speak, and now, I turned to face him. "And what do you want, you selfish fuck?" My eyes met his squarely as I took a step towards him. He didn't back away as I held my clenched fist in front of his face. "What?" That single word was an intonement of all my anger, all my hate for people like him who had taken away the meaning of my life.

And all the sleazy bastard does is close his eyes and smirk. He just stands there with that righteous little leer pulling up the corner of his lips.

"I just want to move up in the world." That simply, he says it. That simply, he makes it a world of meaning attached to those nine separately insignificant words. He raises his head slowly, opening his eyes to me, full of simmering emotion. "Isn't that what you want, too?" His words seemed to be the only truth, the only thing existing around me. The oak paneled walls disappeared and the floor became a dark empty expanse beneath me under their influence. His honey smooth whisper wrapped around me in seductive tones as his eyes portrayed to me an only reality.

"I move up, take my place above you. You move up, take my old place below me. Everything is as it should be. Is that not correct?" His honeyed tones drew me in made me believe him, made me want to reach out and humble myself at his pristine feet.

A noise by the door broke the illusion. Both of us turned to look at the gray-haired man standing there. He seemed to hesitate before scratching at the back of his head and speaking. "Umm…dinner is ready, Sasuke-san."

Sasuke stared silently at him for a moment. "Is that all, Kakashi?" The man nodded, and Sasuke made a dismissive gesture, sending the man away. Turning his gaze back to me, he stared unblinking for several moments.

"You will not leave. There are guards posted throughout the mansion. You may amuse yourself for now with thoughts of escape, but your imprisonment is a reality. Until you submit yourself under my will as my humble servant, you will be watched closely. Do not try to leave. You will be brought back and punished. Food will be brought for the first few days until you begin your new duties. Is that clear?"

I stared at him dumbly, and he seemed to take that as a positive answer. His dark eyes held none of the emotion they had contained only minutes ago.

"Then I hope you will not cause any trouble." Sasuke turned and left. As he stepped past the door, he stopped and grasped the doorframe in one talon-like hand. Not looking back he said one more thing before leaving.

"There was never any hope for any of us. We were all meant to be put in our perfect places. That is, if I weren't as broken as you."

I watched the door slowly swing shut on his retreating back in silence, knowing how true that was. Everything would always come back to the same, life after life


	5. Meander

Alien Angel

Chapter 4

Meander

Here's some Linkin Park lyrics that fit pretty well. Hmm. I do NOT own Naruto. All characters are copyrighted to Masashi Kishimoto. SORRY PEEPS!! I know I haven't updated any of my stories in so long. I've been pretty unmotivated lately. But things are coming together, and I'm no longer lost on the path of life (as Kakashi would say). I hope to be posting chapters pretty regularly from now on, but it'll most likely be a good distance between updates. I seem to be stuck on writing on this one, but at least I'm writing. I'm not complaining. Well, enjoy. Oh yeah, I wrote this in a completely blank state of mind. Kinda spacey, and all.

Little piece of paper with a picture drawn  
Floats on down the street till the wind is gone  
The memory now is like the picture was then  
When the paper's crumpled up it can't be perfect again

You'd like to think your never wrong, you live what you've learned  
You have to act like you're someone, you live what you've learned  
You want someone to hurt like you, you live what you've learned  
You wanna share what you've been from, you live what you've learned

Sitting in one spot beneath the heavens, feeling the wind blowing against ones skin, there is a peace one can never feel in the normal up and bustle of daily life. This is a peace I know. I sit here on a sturdy window ledge, looking up at the night sky and wondering just how I got myself into this mess. There's no telling really. Was it started by my being born, or just my being in the wrong place at the wrongest of times? Was it some instance of fate, laughing its fool head off at my demise, or just one circumstance leading to another? I have no knowledge of one way or the other. I am here now, and this is where I sit.

It took some small amount of time for me to recall the events leading up until this morning. I now recount clearly my seemingly baseless fears of entering this decrepit old mansion. And yet, there is still some lingering anxiety about my being here. Sasuke has been distant, but an almost menacing figure. He doesn't seem to wish my stay a pleasant one. The man, Kakashi, I almost never see.

'_Why am I here?'_, I ask myself. _'Why do I just not leave?' _My conscious knows not why I persist, but I do. Deep down where it still hurts, I endure. I raise my hand up and look at it. It is clean. That is something it has not been in a long time, but it appears that now it has become that way, it will stay. Things that change are things that have adjusted themselves. Some people can look at a thing or a person and say 'that will never change, always the same'. But is it true? I see myself changing. I see things around me change as much as the leaves shift position in a varying wind. There isn't really a reason for it that I can see, except that with change comes succor. Is that how it will happen for me? Will I be saved by these very changes that are happening in my life? I do not know.

I saw someone else last night. A shadow in the night, he watched much as I do. He knew I was there, as I did he. I sat, he watched, I saw. His eyes lingered constantly on Sasuke's shadow in the lantern light. The boy paced back and forth in front of the curtained sitting room windows. He seemed to feel those red eyes on him. I didn't blame him for being restless. Few things would have remained on easy under that baleful stare.

Sitting quietly, I managed to consume my meal without problem and excused myself from the table. I gathered what plates and utensils were finished or unused and took them with me into the kitchen. I set them carefully on the countertop and filled a large basin with hot water, and began my menial task.

I have few complaints to voice over my position here, really. It is quiet, but I have always found myself lacking in partners for discussion. I find myself doing tasks that I would have never done in that other life. And really, that is what just days ago seems to me. Being in this elegant, if aging, house with its feather beds and warm water makes things feel as if I have entered upon another world. Not necessarily better a better one, but a parallel one with more comforts to allay its flaws

I curiously find myself feeling less alone. But it is neither the boy nor his guardian that bring me to feel this way. Neither is it their silent watcher. It is almost like there is some constant presence near my person that sympathizes with me. Maybe it is being much nearer the general populace, but I doubt this. It is something omnipotent. Never one to believe in the gods, I deign to leave it out of my thoughts.

Short, I know. But this is the most I've been able to write in so long, and it just feels right. Please leave me a review. I feel left out. I see all these stories by greats and novices alike with so many reviews, and yet I have nary more than a handful of mine own. Nary more than a few per each story, even. But then again, the world was never fair.


End file.
